I am so happy to be home, this afternoon, and so happy to see Suzi and Charlie, we go immediately to the river and into the late afternoon woods. My daughter warns me, “wear my black rubber boots,” as the banks of the river have overflowed from rain and all the brooks along the trail too, so there is much sloshing through puddles for this homecoming romp, and there is rain projected for tomorrow morning. It’s chilly, too, I wear my gloves, which feels so strange as just yesterday I walked under a burning sun barefoot in shorts on the Gulf of Mexico. Tonight, I skip my writing group, which is a tough miss for me, but driving into Cambridge after a flight home feels like too much. And I haven’t written anything; the board retreat and strategic planning has taken all my energy and I’m tired but satisfied and happy. A rejection of some poems came in by e-mail today. But a request to see some poems also came in, and so this evened it all out. The leaf carpeted woods, the sun glinting on the fat river, the dogs cheerful and rowdy, and long chatty catch ups with all three of my adult children add up to the perfect homecoming.
